Renegade
by Craft Rose
Summary: A young Severus Snape travels into the future, and is met with Hermione Granger. The attraction is instant. The danger, as well. (Warning: Explicit Sexual Content, Coarse Language, Graphic Violence, and Spoilers).
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is a re-upload. Future chapters should be posted fairly quick, since they are written and ready to go. **

Hermione raced towards the library. It was well past midnight. She had no reason to be out and about, given that patrol duty had came to a close over an hour before, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Her eyes burned with hurt and rage. She had never felt so betrayed in her life, and for whom? It was sickening. Everything they had shared up until that point had been a lie.

The young woman strolled past several bookshelves and found her place by the crackling fire. A warm blanket of air engulfed her wholly. It gave her peace to sit there, in the library, away from the world and surrounded by her one true love: knowledge. These books never betrayed her. These books weren't the ones to lead her on for years only to shag some cheap whore from _Beauxbatons Academy_. These books were her life force. These books gave her solace.

She inhaled, sinking low in the armchair. Harry would undoubtedly find her within the hour. Hermione had made the preemptive decision to ignore his counsel. He was a good friend to her, but he would never understand. Ron was his best, best mate. They were boys. They didn't have the capacity to comprehend a woman's feelings. Ginny, on the other hand, would be on her arse come morning. It would be difficult to avoid her, but it had to be done.

It was then, in the middle of one October night, that Hermione finally questioned her decision to deny Ronald what he desired most. Perhaps if she had chosen otherwise, this would never have happened. The mere notion of it, however, was enough to drive her insane. The choice was never hers. She did not have the power to control another human being's decisions.

Hermione sighed, burying her face in her hands. Running away had never worked in the past. It was bound to fail, but she saw no other option. She had to be alone, for the time being. All she could do was hope her friends would understand.

The young woman bent towards the fireplace, watching as tiny embers flickered onto the hardwood floor. They burned out so fast. It was almost poetic – almost.

"_In vain I have struggled_," Hermione thought aloud. "_It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to _–" Her gaze darted over her shoulder. She heard something, a footstep. "Is anyone there?" she asked, curving her fingers around her wand. "I am Head Girl. Should I find you, I will –" Another footstep.

Hermione swallowed hard, slowly making her way from the fireplace to the source. There were only a few torches lit, painting dark shadows over the walls and flooring. She thought, for a fleeting moment, that Ginny had followed her to the library but something in the air told her otherwise. There was a dark presence in the vicinity. She could feel it in her bones. It was bone chilling.

She pressed her back against a nearby bookshelf, knowing in her deepest core that something was waiting on the other side. Part of her had missed the thrill of danger, but another part of her knew exactly what danger meant and the casualties that went with underestimating such a force.

She prayed someone would find her, a Professor or a student or even Filch. But as the seconds flew by, Hermione knew she was alone. She could feel sweat act as adhesive between her skin and clothes. It was a Monday, which meant she was in school uniform.

With one glance at the crest sewn onto her cloak, Hermione felt the strength and courage that went along with being Gryffindor. In a flash of nerves, the young woman spun on her heel and felt magical energy course through her wand, bursting at the tip in a surge of bright blue light. She made motion to take cover under a table, as debris flew from every corner, but her movements were cut short when she tripped over a large, thick copy of the Advanced Potion Making textbook.

Hermione braced herself for the fall, covering her face, only to feel an arm swoop in around her waist and hold her a mere six inches from the hardwood floor. Her heart was racing. Her temperature grew hot. She panted for breath, feeling the tip of a wand against her throat.

"_In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you_."

A tendril of uncertainty snaked its way around her throat, rendering her speechless. Hermione knew that quote. She was mid-way through reciting it when she heard the footsteps. It was Mr. Darcy's proposal to Elizabeth Bennett in _Pride and Prejudice_. It was from a Muggle novel.

But it wasn't the words that surprised her. It was the voice speaking the words. Something about that voice sounded familiar. Resigned to the fact that her well being rested in the hands of a stranger, Hermione slowly opened her eyes and felt her body turn scalding hot and then ice cold, repeatedly. Her gaze was met with a pair of deep, dark eyes.

"Who are you?" she asked, feeling the words pour from her mouth before she was able to stop them.

The man, who looked to be around her age, gave her a quizzical look. "I'm afraid I cannot relinquish such information."

"I – I'm Head Girl. You must."

He glanced down at her chest, where the badge was pinned. "Is it not past the hour of patrol?"

Hermione felt a frown tug at the corners of her lips. "Y – Yes but I have every right to –"

His wand was still pressed against her skin. "You weren't supposed to see me."

"But I did." There was a hitch in her throat as she realized her own wand had rolled from her grip.

"You're shaking," he deduced, a twitch in his lip. "Are you afraid?"

"I – I –"

In a strange course of action, he removed the wand from her throat. "I bear you no ill will."

Hermione's chest rose and fell at an incredibly high rate. They were in close proximity. She could feel his body heat through her uniform. "Am – Am I hallucinating?"

The young man's gaze went from her eyes to her lips. "I'm quite real. I can assure you."

She had no idea what was happening. There was something daunting about the sound of his voice and the look in his eyes. "Are – Are you going to hurt me?"

"No," he answered swiftly. "I am here to protect you."

The conviction in his voice was undeniable. Hermione felt a calmness take over. She met eyes with him once more, and knew with one look that he wasn't lying. She had seen that look in someone else, a long time ago, but the tension between their bodies offered little room to concentrate on anything else.

"You remind me of someone."

"Likewise," she breathed, closing her eyes as he laid her down.

"By the way…my name is Evan," he told her. "Evan Prince."

Evan Prince. She had never heard that name before. Perhaps the familiarity had been a false product of recent events. "My name is Hermione Granger," she introduced, knowing full well the dangers of releasing her name to a stranger.

"Hermione," he repeated, enunciating each syllable.

"Are – Are you a student here?" she asked.

Evan offered her a hint of a smile. "I'm afraid I cannot say."

"Then I will have to report you."

He brushed the hair from her face. "You will do no such thing."

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"

"You will forget I was ever here," Evan told her. "You will not remember my name. You will forget my face and my voice and my words." His hand traveled from her hair to the bottom of her chin.

The young woman felt a lump in her throat. "And if I don't?"

He slowly tilted her face towards his. "I will find you," he whispered, so close that his lips brushed over hers. "And I will kill you."


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione quietly walked back to the Common Room, crawling through the portrait hole with flaming hot cheeks. She had been through many things in her life, but nothing would measure up to the ups and downs of adolescence. Without sparing a second, she headed straight for the girl's dormitory. Her roommates were fast asleep – save for one.

"Where have you been?" Ginny asked in a hushed voice, wiggling both eyebrows suggestively.

Clearly, she hadn't heard the news. Hermione offered her best friend a smile, slipping out of her uniform and into pajamas. "Just in the library."

"Ah," sighed the redhead. "Only you get off from books."

"I do not," laughed Hermione, throwing a pillow.

Ginny caught it just in time, mouth wide open. "Does that mean there was a boy involved? Please don't tell me it was Ron."

"It wasn't," she confirmed, rather indifferently. "There was no boy."

"Was it a girl?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Go to bed, Gin."

"But I want to know," she frowned. "Please. I won't tell Harry. I promise."

She knew Ginny was one to keep her word, but there was something about what had happened that Hermione wanted to keep private. It was strange and magical. It left her skin tingling and her heart racing. She bit her lip, knowing her best friend wouldn't quit.

"Fine," Hermione decided. "But you can't speak a word of this to anyone."

Ginny shot upright, sealing her lips with an imaginary zipper. "I personally give you permission to tell the school about mine and Harry's first time, should you hear anything about your secret in the grapevine."

Hermione smiled. "There's no need for that, but thanks." She took a seat beside Ginny and thought – briefly. There were definitely certain things she had to keep private, but the gist of it wasn't so bad. "There was a boy in the library," she began. "Until tonight I had never seen him before, but he was charming and handsome, and slightly brooding."

"Brooding is good," added Ginny, giggling. "Go on."

"We sort of ended up on the floor – him on top." Ginny's jaw dropped when Hermione said this. "He recited lines from one of my favourite novels – a Muggle novel – and I don't know…I just…I liked it. I liked it a lot."

"And…?"

"That's it. We introduced ourselves and I left."

Ginny gawked at her best friend. "So, you're telling me there wasn't even a kiss?"

"We almost kissed," offered Hermione.

"Oh, come on!" Ginny threw her arms in the air with frustration, recoiling slightly as one of the roommates stirred in her sleep. They waited until she started snoring again before continuing. "You need to find that boy and plant one on him the next chance you get."

Hermione glanced out the window. "That's the problem. I don't know if I'll see him again."

"Wait. Was – Was he a ghost?" Ginny asked, completely genuine.

The brunette laughed. "No. He was quite real."

"Then I don't see why you would question a second meeting," deduced her friend. "What house is he in?"

"I don't know," Hermione realized. "He wasn't wearing school robes. He was in a traveling cloak."

Ginny narrowed her eyes in thought. "That makes things difficult. What if he's in Slytherin?"

"I – I could look past it."

"Really?"

Hermione shrugged. "They can't all be bad. Professor Snape was Slytherin and he turned out to be a damned hero."

"True," agreed Ginny. "Well, I hope you see him again. You deserve to find someone worth your while."

"Does – Does that mean you –"

Ginny nodded. "I know what happened with Ron. Harry told me as soon as he found out. I'm sorry my brother is such an idiot."

"It's fine. Some people just aren't meant for each other." Hermione accepted her best friend's hug and retreated to her own bed. "Good night, Gin."

"Night," yawned the redhead. "Say hi to that bloke in your dreams."

Hermione chuckled. "You're mad."

"Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"What's his name?"

The Head Girl paused for a moment. She wouldn't soon forget the name. It had been on the edge of her tongue and circulating her mind since he had told her. "Evan," she said quietly. "Evan Prince."

The following week went by without a word from Evan. Hermione was never one to obsess over a cute boy, but she couldn't deny the fact that his absence left something of a hole in her confidence. Her thoughts eventually drifted to whether or not he had been real. They lived in a magical universe. It was completely possible that he had been an apparition of some sort, or that she had been so overcome with rage that she had in fact hallucinated the entire occurrence.

Ginny dismissed all her theories, claiming Evan was a real person and at the request of her good friend, put all her plans to hunt him down to a crashing halt. Hermione didn't want to spend her time hoping and praying for a certain boy to pay her attention, as she had with Ron. Those situations never worked out well, and she had too much to focus on without having to worry about someone who may or may not have been real.

Hermione stretched into a yawn, having completed all her schoolwork for the week, which left her schedule empty for the first time in months. She sat in the library, deciding whether or not she should grab a late dinner in the Great Hall or meet with Harry and Ginny for some catching up. Truthfully, she hadn't spoken a word to Harry since Ron's little secret came out. It was painful, given that they were so close, but she needed space.

Her head rested in the palm of her hand. She closed her eyes, imagining Evan and everything that had happened. Perhaps Ginny was right. Perhaps she should have just kissed him when she had the chance. It happened so fast. Hermione barely had time to process any of it. She sighed, thinking of the familiar look in his deep, dark eyes and the sound of his voice. He must have been Muggle-born, which would explain the _Pride and Prejudice_ quote. For some reason this made her feel better. She had nothing against blood purity, but it was always comforting to know another Muggle-born. They were scarce.

Without further hesitation, the young woman made way for the nearest bookshelf, the one she had been hiding behind that night. She ran her hands over the spines of each nearby book, feeling dust collect on her fingertips. It was the shelf with Muggle literature, primarily for Muggle Studies, and most students avoided it.

Hermione felt a tug in her chest as she reached one particular title. It was Jane Austen's famous novel, the same one that had been circulating her mind for the past week. She lifted it from the shelf and flipped through the pages.

"You dropped something," interjected Luna, having paused in the tune she had been humming all evening. The quirky blond knelt down and picked up a slip of parchment. "Here," she smiled, handing it to Hermione. "It fell from your book."

"Oh. Thank you, Luna." Hermione nodded farewell, waiting until Luna's tune filled the air once more, before taking a proper glance at the parchment. There was handwriting on it – beautiful handwriting.

_Astronomy Tower. Midnight. _

- _EP _

Her insides jumbled together. Those initials. That book. The location. It had to be. It was a long shot, but it had to be. She glanced around the library, as though someone had been lurking over her shoulder and slipped the parchment into her robes.

"Leaving so soon?" asked Luna.

Hermione nodded. "I – I forgot something in my Common Room."

"All right. Have a good night. Look out for those skiddlemumps. They like to come out when it's raining."

The Head Girl arched an eyebrow for a split second. "Will do, Luna. See you later."

"You as well." Luna carried on with her humming, paying no mind as Hermione rushed past her and out of the library.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione hugged her robes close, keeping close watch for any passersby. It was nearly midnight. To her own surprise, she found herself staring at her reflection in nearby windows. There wasn't enough time to make sure she looked all right. The mere notion of doing so, however, caught her way off guard. She was never the type to care – even with Ron.

Something about Evan struck her as different. He didn't seem shallow. Then again, he didn't seem like much of anything. She didn't know a single thing about him. For all she knew, he had given her a fake name.

The young woman practically sprinted up the steps, hearing the downpour and in a matter of minutes, seeing it. She had always enjoyed rain. It was strangely comforting. She smiled to herself, thinking that she was probably the only person in all of England to like their questionable weather.

"Something funny?"

She gasped, turning on her heel only to lose her balance and nearly fall over the edge. A pair of hands held her in place, and with them came the man of the hour. He pulled her back to safety, and took a few steps back.

"You're a bit of a klutz, aren't you?"

Hermione felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. "That's an understatement."

He smiled. "It's good to see you."

"You as well," she offered, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear. "May I ask what this is about?"

Evan gave her a knowing look. Everything about him was so familiar. It almost angered her. "I just wanted to see you again."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Really?" she asked, skeptical.

He nodded. "I – I shouldn't be doing this, but I haven't been able to get our little meeting out of my mind. It's quite annoying."

"Annoying?" she asked. "Just what every girl wants to hear."

"You know that's not what I meant by it."

Hermione folded her arms, feeling more like herself. "Then did you mean?"

Evan stepped towards her. "I mentioned something the other night, about you reminding me of someone," he started, looking slightly troubled. "Well, you remind me of a girl I used to know. She had a kind heart and a keen mind – just like you."

"Did you break up?" asked Hermione.

He shook his head. "We were never together."

"Oh." It sounded similar to something she had been through. "Does she go to school here?"

"She used to," answered Evan, peering off into the distance. "But this isn't about her."

Hermione placed her hand on his, over the railing. They were standing side by side, overlooking the grounds. His story sounded awfully like unrequited love. She knew exactly what that was like. "I'm sure she misses you."

"It doesn't matter. I'm not the same person I used to be."

"What sort of person are you?"

He paused for a moment, facing her. "I've made a lot of mistakes. I've done things I can't take back."

Hermione tried to read his expression, but everything was clouded by the seriousness in his features. "Do – Do those mistakes have anything to do with why you're here?"

"Yes," he answered swiftly. "But I can't go into further detail."

"Right," she remembered. "Or you'll be forced to kill me."

Evan smiled. "I must sound like a lunatic."

Hermione shrugged. "Nothing I'm not used to. I – I don't know if you know this but I'm Muggle-born. I've learned to accept the world and all its surprises."

Something strange fell over his facial features, but he brushed it off. "In all seriousness, you really can't tell anyone about me."

"Would you actually kill me if I did?"

"Yes." His expression had hardened, but only slightly. "It's either that or you endure insurmountable torture at the hands of my associates."

Hermione froze. Associates. Torture. That could only mean one thing. "You must not be very loyal to your associates if you're standing here warning me about them."

Evan nodded along. "One of my mistakes."

"Telling me?"

"Joining with them."

Her mind drifted to thoughts of Death Eaters. It was plausible. She knew practically nothing about this man. He could easily have led her into a trap. Albus Dumbledore himself had died in the Astronomy tower. There was nothing holding her back from carrying the same fate. Hermione breathed heavily, feeling her eyes glaze over in deep thought, just as Evan laced his fingers through hers. She glanced up at him, and saw nothing close to a killer in his eyes.

He looked young. He looked confused. He looked regretful. He looked hurt. He looked lost. He looked…normal. Hermione turned her body towards his and felt herself grow hot around the collar as he brushed his fingers along her jaw line, tilting her chin up the way he had the previous night.

"You should stay away from me," he warned her, looking as though he meant something completely different.

Hermione inhaled. "Don't tell me what to do."

There was a touch of a smile on Evan's lips. "Tell me, Hermione Granger. What is it you would like to do?"

They hovered in that moment, less than an inch apart, staring at one another with mingled curiosity and craving. Hermione felt her chest leap when he spoke her name. His voice was deeper than any young man she had ever encountered. He spoke with insight. He spoke with awareness. She felt her lips begin to tremble, searching desperately for the right words to say.

She opened her mouth, on the verge of unleashing her innermost desires, when suddenly they kicked into overdrive.

He kissed her.

His lips were on hers. His lips moved and felt and sucked on hers. Hermione gasped, feeling her entire body respond to his advances. She had never been kissed like that before. It took several seconds for her to get over the initial shock, before they eventually found a nice rhythm – a good middle ground between starved, hormonal teenagers and soft, sensuous, experienced adults.

Evan pulled away for a moment, allowing them time to breathe. "I'm sorry. I just – I wanted to do that from the moment I saw you."

Hermione smiled against his lips. "You should have."

"It wasn't too much?"

"It wasn't enough," she found herself saying, hoping she didn't come across as too much of a slag. "Nobody has ever kissed me like that before."

"I'll take that as a compliment," he smiled, delivering soft pecks around her neck and jaw line.

Hermione didn't know what was happening to her. She went from being the prude of all prudes, to practically spreading her legs for a complete stranger. She tilted her head back, giving him more room, and moaning softly as he sucked on her collarbone. It gave her the strangest, most satisfying sensation.

"That feels –"

"Hermione?"

The young woman froze, eyes shooting open as she felt both hers and Evan's bodies turn rigid. Evan released her and stepped aside as she spun around.

"Ginny," she choked out. "What – What are you doing here?"

"I…I came here to…well…I'm sorry," mumbled the redhead, eyes darting to Evan. "Is this your…boyfriend?"

Hermione felt a rather large lump form in the pit of her stomach. If she said no, she should look like a slag and if she said yes, she would be lying. She kept perfectly still, hoping the moment would pass before she had the chance to utter a word.

Evan wrapped his arm around her. "Yes," he answered, taking note of her nervousness. "My name is Evan."

"I'm Ginny," she waved, startled as Evan went over to shake her hand. "Oh. He's a polite one."

Hermione ignored her best friend's not-so-subtle wink. "What are you doing here?"

"This is where Harry I meet a couple times a week," explained the redhead, quite casually. "Just for a quickie and some alone time."

"_Ginny_."

"What?" she laughed. "We're all consenting adults. I don't see the big deal."

Evan smirked. "Well, I suppose Hermione and I should leave you to it."

Ginny nodded, glancing over her shoulder. "You best get out of here quick. The Almighty Chosen One will be here any minute."

Hermione felt that same nervousness tug on her heartstrings. If Harry saw her, there would be a million questions left to answer – most of which she herself hadn't even asked yet.

"Before you go," interjected Ginny. "Maybe you should invite Evan to join us in Hogsmeade tomorrow."

"Oh – Erm." The brunette glanced at him. "I – I don't think –"

"I'd love to join you," he slipped in, giving her hand a light squeeze.

Hermione arched an eyebrow, trying to hide her amazement from Ginny. She wasn't quite sure how to handle the situation, but there was little time to ponder. Harry would be there.

Without wasting another second, Hermione hugged her friend farewell and left the Astronomy Tower hand-in-hand with her fake boyfriend. It was beyond awkward.

They reached the Seventh Floor before she spoke a word. "You didn't have to save me back there, and you certainly don't have to come to Hogsmeade," she started. "I know you can't be seen and all. It's no big deal if you change your mind."

"Nonsense. You needed saving and I – I could go with some Butterbeer," Evan decided. "Tomorrow at Three Broomsticks. I'll meet you there."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

She didn't know what to make of the situation, but smiled regardless. "Sounds good, I guess."

"Oh, Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"What did Ginny mean by the _Almighty Chosen One_?" he asked.

She thought for a moment. "Right – Erm. That's just our way of mocking the media's portrayal of Harry."

"Harry?"

"As in, Harry Potter."

A strange emotion tugged at Evan's features. His eyes narrowed for the briefest moment. "Potter?"

Hermione grinned, wondering what this was about. "Yes, Potter. He's a good friend of mine. We've known one another since First Year."

"Long time," he acknowledged. "Will Harry be at Hogsmeade tomorrow?"

"I think so," she shrugged. "Why so curious?"

"No reason. I just want to get to know you, and your friends seem like a great place to start."

She felt a yawn coming on, brushing off her concerns. "All right. Well – I should go to bed. It was nice seeing you again."

Evan stepped in for a hug, giving her a peck on the forehead. "Rest well, Hermione Granger. I'll see you tomorrow."


	4. Chapter 4

It was foolish, beyond foolish. He had already been down this road. His heart was still in recovery from last time, but his eyes had somehow found their way to someone else. Her name was Hermione Granger, and she was the most intellectual, well-spoken, devastatingly beautiful distraction he had ever encountered. There was only one problem. She was about twenty years his junior, and she had absolutely no idea.

Severus blinked repeatedly, watching her chat away with a tall, black-haired young man whom he had seen before – only different. His face was kind and full of warmth. His smile was wide and joyous. He had not a single trace of arrogance in his soul. But most important, he had eyes as green as the forest.

It was daunting.

He was forced to turn away from the window, feeling the cold air bite his skin. Thankfully, the village was filled with passersby – some students and some not. He slowly walked away, towards the entrance of the Shrieking Shack and felt an indescribable amount of guilt tug at his heartstrings. His mission was simple. Plant the horcrux and get the hell out of there. Nowhere in that timeline of events had he agreed to meet with James and Lily's future son.

Severus ran both hands through his hair, allowing it to fall over his eyes. He didn't know what to do. Everything depended on him. He had lied to her about so many things. His name wasn't Evan Prince. He wasn't there to protect her. He wasn't supposed to be in a relationship. The only honest thing he'd ever told her was that she would die if the wrong person found out about their pseudo-romance.

The young man buried his face in his hands and fell to his knees. He had dug himself so, so deep, and without escape.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione sat in the Gryffindor stands, quite far from the cheering crowd of staff and students. It was Gryffindor vs. Slytherin, and it sounded as though Gryffindor were winning, but she couldn't be too sure. She was happy for her friends and usually took great pride in their Quidditch matches, but it had been difficult for her to focus on anything since the previous day's visit to Hogsmeade.

Evan stood her up.

She had never been stood up in her life. They waited in Three Broomsticks for four hours, and for what? Nothing. It was beyond humiliating, and she knew that whatever she had with Evan wasn't actually a relationship, but part of her still felt betrayed.

If he was nervous about meeting her friends, he could've just canceled. Then again, she wasn't even sure about his situation. Who was he? What was he doing there? He clearly wasn't a student or a staff member. It was all very confusing, and slightly terrifying given that he could also have been a Death Eater. She tried her best to push those thoughts aside, but it was in her nature to ask questions and seek answers.

"Can we talk?"

The brunette turned around, feeling a poke on her ankle. She glanced under the stands. It was Evan. "What the hell are you doing there?" she asked.

"I just need to talk to you for a second. Please."

Hermione took a deep breath, preparing herself to decline. He had no right to ask for anymore of her time. She had been made a fool of and she would be damned if it happened again. There was no way. Not one single way. Nope. Nothing.

She paused. "Erm – okay." The young woman cursed herself into oblivion as she stepped off the benches and into the internal structure. Nobody would notice she was gone. They were all busy watching the match. She took a few steps towards Evan, before folding her arms over her chest. "What do you want?"

His eyes were drenched in guilt. "I want to apologize for yesterday. It was out of order. I shouldn't have left you waiting."

"Correct." She tried her best to remain calm and channel her inner Minerva McGonagall. That woman had the stern thing down-packed.

"I do have a reason, if you're up to hearing it."

Hermione could feel her inner curiosity start to reach the surface. "I – I don't know. If you must."

Evan glanced down for a moment, as though he was trying to find the right words to say. She had to admit, he looked quite handsome. His dark hair and ivory skin were permanently etched into her memory. It was frustrating. She should've been angry with him, not check him out.

His gaze shifted back up, sending a flutter of emotion through her body. "I haven't been entirely honest with you."

"No kidding."

He exhaled, looking just as nervous as she felt. "There's a reason you've never seen me before, and it's going to sound mental but – please – bear with me."

She was starting to lose the act of indifference. "Go on."

"I'm a student here," he began, staring down at the floor panels. "I just – I'm not from the same year."

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "That's your secret? You're younger than me?" She wanted to laugh, but didn't.

"No," he said, holding a hand up between them. "I wish that were the case."

"Then what is it?"

He looked more nervous as time went on. "I'll just say it," he decided, staring at her dead in the eye. "I'm not from 1998. I'm from – I'm from –"

"Wait," Hermione interjected. "Are you trying to tell me you traveled through time?"

Evan nodded, slowly.

She narrowed her eyes, hoping to catch his bluff, but when his expression only grew more somber…Hermione realized he was telling the truth. She took a step back, completely dumbfounded. "You're not joking, are you?"

"I'm not. It's the truth." He epitomized guilt. "It's the world we live in. Things like this are possible."

Hermione knew that for a fact. She had done her fair share of time travel back in Third Year, but she caught the impression that Evan's time travel involved something a lot stronger than a time turner. "Are you from the past?"

"Yes."

She was starting to feel a little dizzy. "What's the reason behind it?"

Evan closed his eyes, visibly afflicted by whatever situation he was in. "I can't tell you that part without revealing too much. I'm sorry, Hermione."

"That's not fair. I deserve to know."

"I agree. There are just too many external forces involved. I can't risk it."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Then why did you bother with me in the first place?"

"Because I like you," he said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You're smart. You're brave. You're strong, and you're beautiful. It's hard not to like you."

Her body relaxed. "I like you, as well."

Evan offered her a weak smile. "That means a great deal to me, it really does, but I'm afraid this is the last time you'll see me."

Hermione didn't know why that decision shocked her, but it did. She backed away, turned on her heel and furiously wiped at her eyes.

She had no idea what was happening to her. She barely knew him. He was practically a stranger to her. She went into the conversation expecting some groveling, not to be dumped by her pseudo-boyfriend.

The brunette took several deep breaths, desperately trying to calm down, until Evan pulled her in for a hug. His arms were surprisingly strong.

"Hermione," he started, speaking her name in a way that left her weak. "I hope you know I don't want to give up on this – I have to." Evan slowly turned her around, wiping the tears from her eyes with his sleeve. "The night we met, I told you I was there to protect you…and leaving you behind is the only way for me to do that."

She pushed his arms away. "Stop doing that. Stop trying to justify your actions. Tell me what's going on."

"You know I can't."

"I don't care. Just do it."

"Hermione, you have to understand where I'm –"

"No!" the Head Girl shouted, muffled by the triumphant cheers coming from the stands. "Tell me what's going on. Right now. I want to know. I deserve to know. I could have reported you that same night, but I didn't. You want to know why?" she asked. "Because I trusted you."

Evan had a pained expression. "It's not what you think it is."

"I really have no idea what it is, so go ahead. Nothing will surprise me."

"I highly doubt that."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "So that's it. You're going to swoop in, recite a few lines from a romance novel, snog me and then leave?"

Evan stepped towards her, startled as she stepped back. "It's not like that. I wasn't using you."

"I didn't accuse you of using me."

"But you were thinking it."

"So?" she huffed. "I don't even know who you are."

"Wait." Evan held on to her wrist as she turned to leave, though his grip was loose. "Please. You – You do know who I am."

Hermione frowned. "I don't mean your name. I mean the man behind the name."

"As do I."

"I don't understand what you're trying to say."

"You know the man behind the name," he explained. "It's the name itself that's a lie."

She didn't know what was worse, the fact that he just admitted to lying about something else or the fact that she wasn't surprised by it at all. He was trouble, from the beginning, but a large part of her just hadn't given it a thought.

Hermione tucked her hair behind her ears, eyes darting to the floor. "What is it then? What is your name?"

Evan – or whatever his name was – looked ten times as nervous as before. It was almost painful to watch. She wondered what was going through his mind. She wondered why he had time traveled. She wondered who he was. She wondered so many things about this one man, but none of it matched up to the insane urge she had to maul him right then and there. Even after he had confessed to betraying her trust.

There was something between them.

There was some sort of inexplicable force, and it was driving her mad.

She stood perfectly still, waiting for him to speak. It felt as though years had long passed until, finally, his lips parted.

He met eyes with her, appearing as though he had seen a ghost. "Prince was my mother's maiden name and Evan comes from an old friend's surname. The one I told you about on top of the Astronomy Tower." He paused for a moment, collecting himself. "Her name was Lily," he clarified, a hitch in his voice. "Lily Evans."

Hermione felt every bone in her body turn to mist. She had to be dreaming. None of it was real. It was impossible. It was damn impossible for the words he was saying to be true, because that would mean she knew exactly who he was. The brunette held a hand over her mouth, feeling her eyes cloud up with fresh tears.

"Herm –"

"Don't touch me!" she shouted, backing away from him. Tears began to fall, streaking her face in wet lines. "You – You don't even know…"

His eyes were wide with hurt. "What don't I know?"

Hermione slowly shook her head, fighting the gravitational force pulling her in his direction. She felt sick. She could do nothing but hope the past week would vanish from her memory. But there was no forgetting the way he had spoken to her, touched her, and kissed her.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the worst of it. Not even close.

"You don't know what happens," she panted. "But I do."


	6. Chapter 6

Severus caught her mid-fall. She had tears in her eyes, but they weren't tears of betrayal. He had only seen those types of tears once in his life, from his own eyes on the day his mother passed away. Hermione released a sharp intake of breath, as he wiped the moisture from her eyes. They were no longer inside the Gryffindor Quidditch stands. She had made a run for it, getting as far as the Great Lake before stumbling over her own two feet.

"You're making this difficult," she breathed.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, still holding her in place. "I can't pretend like I don't feel anything for you, but if you would truly like to be left alone…I will leave."

Hermione shook her head. "Your presence isn't the difficult part," she started. "It's knowing what happens afterwards. That's what I can't handle."

It took a moment for Severus to comprehend what she was trying to tell him. He set her down and they both sat on the damp grass, overlooking the still water. They were alone, hidden beneath the shadows of several trees. The vast majority of staff and students were enjoying the Quidditch match, which meant the grounds were virtually empty.

He took a deep, unnerving breath. "You know what becomes of me."

The young woman offered a short nod, followed by fresh tears to cloud her milk chocolate eyes. "I do."

"What happens to me?" asked Severus.

"I can't tell you that. It would alter the –"

"What happens to me?" he asked, firm. "You don't have to worry about altering my fate. I won't remember any of this once my Tempendulum runs out."

Hermione shot him a curious glance. "You're what?"

Severus reached into his robes and withdrew what looked to be a rusted silver pocket watch. The inside was just as weathered and worn out. "It's a time travel device that has been passed down my mother's family since the early 1800s. It was created using dark magic, and once the magic runs out…so will my memories of this particular time."

"You won't remember anything?"

"Correct."

The brunette stared blankly into the horizon. "Including me?"

"Including you," he answered, taking note of the hurt in her voice. "So, please. Tell me, Hermione. Tell me what happens."

There was a pause in their conversation. Hermione wiped the remaining tears from her eyes and her expression softened, whilst thinking of him. It was a peculiar sight. "You grow up to be the best Potions Master this school has ever seen," she suddenly said. "The head of Slytherin and an inspiration to many – particularly the son of Lily Evans and James Potter."

"Harry," he interjected. "Your friend."

Hermione nodded. "Your bond doesn't start out very strong, but he eventually learns of all that you did to protect him." She blinked hard, holding back the emotion that threatened to reach the surface. "It's in that protection, for him and the rest of the world, that you…you…"

Severus laced their fingers together. "I understand," he said, relieving her of the conclusion to his story. "You don't need to continue."

"I wish there was something I could do to stop it from happening," she voiced.

"It's my fate."

She turned to him. "Is this your fate, too?" asked the Head Girl. "Sitting here with me, discussing your future."

"I suppose so," Severus decided. "But it's a fate neither of us will remember when the time comes."

Hermione closed her eyes, trying to find the words to convey her truest desires. She had learned a lot within that hour. She had been lied to, numerous times, and she ought to have been seething with anger – but all she could manage to think about was the fact that everything would disappear. There was no time to be angry or confused.

The young woman glanced to her left, where he sat less than six inches away from her, and gave his hand a squeeze.

Severus faced her, having been caught in his own thoughts. "Is something the matter?"

"I need you to do something," she said, pushing back the anger and replacing it with something far less upsetting but equally intense. "I need you to kiss me."

For a long time he didn't say anything. The only thing he could do was stare at her, dumbfounded, wondering if his ears had failed him. She had gone from shouting at him to this, in less than an hour's time. His gaze drifted to her lips, and he watched as she ran her tongue over them. It was a simple action, but it left him breathless.

Severus tried to focus. He tried to think of something, of anything to deter his body from reacting the way it wanted to. And, of course, his efforts proved futile against the raucous beat of his heart and the way every nerve in his body seemed to jump at the sight of her – ready and willing.

He moved closer, gently pressing their foreheads together. He could smell the lavender scent of her shampoo. It was intoxicating. Everything about her was intoxicating.

"They might see us," he whispered, brushing his lips over hers.

Hermione released a shaky breath. "Let them."

In that moment, any resistance he had left had vanished. Severus kissed her, deeply and passionately, placing his hand on the small of her back as he lowered her onto the grass. It was different from their previous kiss. It wasn't slow or innocent. In fact, there was nothing innocent about it. He held his weight with one arm and used the other to caress her cheeks and neck. They moved together in an acquired rhythm, tugging and sucking to the point that their lips were swollen within a matter of minutes.

Hermione moaned into the kiss as Severus traced his tongue over hers. She arched her back, unknowingly pressing her breasts against his chest. His muscles contracted in response, right through his shirt, sending a new wave of exhilaration through their bloodstreams.

After several, severe minutes of kissing on the grass, where anyone could see, they paused for breath.

Severus ran his hand through her hair, brushing it away from her face. "Would you like me to stop?"

She shook her head, pulling him in for more. This time their hands wandered to uncharted territory. She felt along his flexed abdominal muscles and strong arms. He felt along her sides, all the way up to the lower curves of her breasts. Hermione moaned again, perking up at his touch. He carefully massaged her breasts, repeating movements that she reacted to the most.

The Head Girl felt him between her legs, rubbing against her in a way that made her eyes roll to the back of her head. She had never wanted anything so bad in her life.

Severus moved his hands from her breasts, to the top buttons of her shirt. He waited a good length of time before popping them open, breaking away for a moment to get a look at her. She was breathtaking. He felt the tension building in his core reach an all-time high when Hermione gave him the nod. With that, the young man transferred his kiss from her mouth to the space between her breasts.

She tilted her head back in pleasure, wondering why it had taken her so long to give in. There was nothing that matched up to the feeling of his body against hers.

Severus stimulated a string of broken, breathless moans from her before running his left hand down her side and hips. He massaged her thigh, slowly making his way to the inner region, where he knew she wanted him. He had never touched a girl like this before, but everything came natural with Hermione. It felt as though neither of them had to try.

She bit her bottom lip as his hand traveled into her skirt. He teased her for a long while, knowing she was getting impatient, before feeling the soft cotton of her panties. She was wet. He could feel her pleasure right through the thin layer of material separating her from the release he planned to give. Severus carefully shifted her panties to the side, brushing his fingertips over her bare skin, feeling her toss and turn in satisfaction.

"I want you," he breathed.

Hermione moaned again, louder, using one of her free hands to feel his arousal. "Do it," she coaxed, staring at him pointblank with a haze of lust and wonder over her eyes. "Make love to me."

Severus didn't need anymore convincing. He yanked his shirt over his head and threw it to the side, pulling her into upright position and doing the same with hers. He reached around her back and unhooked her bra, watching as her breasts bounced from the release and wanting nothing more than to devour them along with her wet core.

"You are so hot," she breathed, feeling like a wild, rebellious young woman in some coming-of-age independent film made by an American.

He smiled and lowered her again, sucking on the flesh of her neck and toying with the nubs of her naked breasts.

This made Hermione purr like a kitten. She felt so good. She wanted him to feel good, too. With that in mind, she reached down for the buckle on his belt, feeling stupid as she struggled to open it. She wanted him now. She needed him now. She couldn't take it anymore.

Severus noticed her struggle and opened his buckle with one quick maneuver, leaving the rest to her as he continued to work her breasts and neck.

She hurriedly pulled his trousers down a few inches, catching sight of a trail that could only lead to something amazing. It was there, waiting for her. She licked her lips in anticipation, giving his trousers another tug before something fell from his pocket. It was a small silver amulet, in the shape of a pentacle, and with a quick shift beneath him, she managed to catch it.

"What's wrong?" Severus asked between kisses, feeling her body turn rigid.

Hermione blinked several times. "Nothing. I just – I –"

She had seen it before, in some ancient texts predating both the Founders and Merlin. Her head was spinning with confusion. Her thoughts were in complete disarray. She closed her eyes in an attempt to focus, knowing this was their only chance at sharing such an intimate moment, until rapidly pushing Severus off of her and throwing the amulet to the ground, watching it singe the grass on top of which it landed.

The Head Girl took a look at her hand, feeling her body shake as she saw the burn mark on her skin.

"What happened?" he asked, breathing hard as he rushed to her side after being pushed back. "Are you all right? Did I hurt you?"

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but before she could find the words or even make sense of what had happened herself, her attention was diverted elsewhere. There were screams coming from what sounded like the Quidditch Pitch, but they weren't cheers or any sort of ovation.

They were screams of terror, dread, panic.

Severus instinctively stood in front of her, holding an arm out, before the source of all the commotion became evident. He turned to her, pale as a ghost. "Harry."

**A/N: We've reached the halfway point! Thank you all for reading this far. I have six more chapters planned, and from this point on the story will definitely take dark turn. Hope you enjoy! :) **


	7. Chapter 7

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you would be here."

Hermione shifted her gaze to the entrance of the Hospital Wing and saw a tall, boyishly handsome young man with flaming red hair. "You can stay," she told him, gathering her books from Harry's bedside table. "I was just leaving."

The brunette made way for the door, passing by her almost-boyfriend for the first time in almost two weeks. It felt like years since she'd last seen him one-on-one. She had successfully avoided any and every situation in which this would happen, but Harry's accident provided them ample opportunity to cross paths.

"Wait," Ron called out, jogging to her just as she reached the door. "Can we talk?"

"I don't know if that's a good –"

"Please," he interjected. "I owe you an explanation."

She swallowed hard. "You don't owe me anything. We were never together."

Ron bowed his head with guilt. "That's my fault. I should have manned up and asked you on a date."

"I don't disagree," Hermione announced. "But what's done is done. There is nothing else to say."

"There is," he furthered. "I – I heard you're seeing someone."

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Where did you hear that?"

"Ginny might have hinted to it," he shrugged.

"Remind me to pay her a visit before dinner," she decided. "Anyway, I don't see how my personal affairs are of any concern to you."

Ron sighed. "Listen…I know I don't deserve you. I never did deserve you. I lost my chance to have you as my girlfriend, and I know I will regret that for the rest of my life, but all I'm asking is for the chance to be friends again." He sounded genuine enough. "I can't not have you in my life, Hermione."

She had dreaded this moment. She knew it would happen sooner or later, but recent events had kept her busy enough to forget that fact. "I understand where you're coming from, Ronald. Believe me. I just…I can't put myself through that again." Hermione peered off, thinking about everything she had gone through with this boy. "I loved you," she admitted. "I loved you more than I thought humanly possible, and you broke my heart to pieces."

Ron's eyes went wide, in awe of her confession. "Hermione…I had no idea."

"That's the problem," she smiled weakly. "We were never on the same page. It was never meant to work out between us."

"So, that's it?" he asked. "Not even friendship?"

Hermione sighed. "I should get going."

"No. It's fine." Ron took a deep breath. "I'll go."

She watched him leave, waiting until the door sounded behind him before turning back to Harry's bedside. Hermione had stayed with him every night since the accident, feeling a sense of responsibility for what had happened. She hadn't been there to witness it, but apparently he'd fallen from his broomstick – over one hundred feet in the air. She could only begin to imagine the horror.

The only reason he survived the fall was due to Ginny's quick reflexes. She raced across the Pitch and grabbed his hand milliseconds before his body had a chance to hit the ground.

Nobody had the slightest clue as to why he had fallen, or how he had been knocked unconscious, but Hermione had a feeling she knew.

"…Mione?"

Her heart leaped. "Harry! You're awake!" She took a quick glance behind her, searching for any attendants. "I should get Madam Pomfrey."

"…No," he groaned. "I – What happened?"

"You fell off your broom during the Quidditch Match," she explained, holding onto his hand. "Ginny caught you just in time. You owe her your life."

Harry struggled to keep his eyes open. "I'll go down on her when I'm out of here."

"_Harry_."

"Sorry," he smiled sluggishly. "I feel loopy. What did they give me?"

"Dreamless sleep."

"Feels about right." He slowly sat upright, accepting Hermione's assistance as she reached to reposition his pillows. "Thanks."

"It's no problem. I was wondering…what happened to you?"

"You told me. I fell off my broom."

Hermione gave him a knowing look. "You're the best flyer Hogwarts has seen in ages. You don't just fall off your broom. Something clearly happened."

Harry stared off to the opposite wall, trying his best to focus on something other than the pain. He was definitely hiding something. It was written all over his face. His hand drifted to one of the bedside tables, and he reached for his glasses. "That's better," he decided. "Er – I don't really know what to say." There was something strange about his expression, something familiar yet foreign. "It's slowly coming back to me…I remember spotting the Snitch and having a go at it. The other Seeker was on my tail. I tried to distract him by going off course, and just as I sped past the Slytherin stands…I felt something…"

"What did you feel?" she asked, giving his hand a squeeze. "Do you think one of them spelled you off your broom?"

He shook his head, a troubled look upon him. "I knew what it was as soon as it happened, but I wasn't expecting it at all." The young man glanced to his friend. "It was my scar."

Hermione had a feeling that it had been his scar. In fact, it was more than a feeling. She had known the second she heard the screams. It wasn't just about her anymore. She couldn't let anything happen to Harry, not again. "I have something to tell you."

Harry flashed her a curious look. "Is it bad?"

"Yes," she answered quickly. "I know why your scar was acting up."

She told him everything from the library incident to the one by the Great Lake, but made the executive decision to spare him of the naughty bits. The story sounded perfectly insane as it was. There was no need for added awkwardness.

He maintained a solid expression throughout – calm and collected. She, on the other hand, stumbled all over her words and fought back tears for what seemed like the other entire tale.

Somehow seconds turned into hours, and the sun had switched shifts with the moon. Hermione uttered the final word of her confession and glanced to the window. The sky was pitch black.

"Evan is Professor Snape?" Harry asked, speaking for the first time in over an hour.

"I know it sounds mental, but it's true."

"And he's using a…Tempendulum to time travel back and forth?"

Hermione nodded. "I saw it with my own eyes. He left the moment we realized you'd been hurt."

"And you think my scar was triggered by the pentacle?"

Once again, she nodded. "It seems that way. It's just too great of a coincidence to be overlooked."

"I agree," he murmured, in deep thought. "Thing is…my scar only hurts in _his _presence and _he _is supposed to be dead, which means Snape's pentacle is…is…"

"Yes," she interjected, having thought the same thoughts for the past three days. "He mentioned something about a mission and his associates. In other words –"

"Death Eaters."

Hermione swallowed hard. "I'm so sorry, Harry. You shouldn't have to deal with this after everything you've been through."

"Do you love him?"

She felt her body freeze. "I – I beg your pardon?"

"It's okay, Hermione. You know I won't judge." He was absolutely right in saying that. "It's just – the way your eyes lit up when you talked about getting to know him and everything. I've only seen that happen once."

Hermione glanced down. "I don't know," she whispered. "I should never have kept any of it a secret. I just don't know what to do."

"Well, it's clear what we have to do." The young man ran a hand through his messy, jet-black hair. "Find him. Find the pentacle. Destroy it."

"You don't want to report him?"

Harry gave her an obvious look. "We've battled a mountain troll, a basilisk, Dementors, dragons, merpeople, Inferi, Death Eaters and Voldemort himself. I think we can handle this one."

A small smile tugged at her lips, despite the circumstance. She wanted Harry to have a normal life, but there was something about his determination that she had always found admirable. "There's only one problem," she confessed. "I have no idea where to find him."

"I suppose you don't," Harry agreed. "But you know when."


End file.
